


Needs a Bit of Honey

by apliddell



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Divergent, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Shire AU, Sick Fic, bagginshield
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 12:25:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17345186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apliddell/pseuds/apliddell
Summary: Bilbo needs a little love and care.





	Needs a Bit of Honey

**Author's Note:**

  * For [A_Candle_For_Sherlock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Candle_For_Sherlock/gifts).



> Thank you to my dear Moony for the prompt.

Bilbo woke in the greyish light of late afternoon or early morning to the sound of the kettle whistling. He rolled onto his back twisting himself up in his quilt and pulling it about over his head. There was a chill in the room. Bilbo coughed into his elbow, and scarcely had he lowered his arm before he heard anxious footsteps in the passage and the bedroom door popped open to admit Thorin. 

Thorin had tied Bilbo’s best apron on over his broad front and held a steaming mug. Bilbo sat up in bed, and Thorin came and sat on the edge of the bed to offer the mug.

“It’s very hot,” Thorin’s voice was a disused rumble, and Bilbo wondered how long he’d slept. 

“I’d never have guessed,” Bilbo smiled and blew at the thick steam that curled off the surface of the liquid. His own voice was far from smooth, and he coughed into his elbow again. Thorin steadied Bilbo’s mug hand between his great ones, but a few drops splashed onto the quilt anyway. 

 

Bilbo settled against Thorin and raised the mug to sniff. It was yellow-green, not tea and smelled sharp. Mint. Lemon. Ginger. Garlic. Some concoction for his cold. Thorin must have walked into the village to consult the chemist. Bilbo wondered again how long he’d been asleep, eyed the worry lines on Thorin’s forehead. 

“It’s only a cold.” 

“And this is a cold remedy. Drink,” Thorin prompted with a nudge. 

Bilbo rolled up his eyes, “To your health, m’lord.” He raised the mug like it were a frothing flagon, then puffed away a bit more steam and sipped. The stuff was never quite as nasty as he feared it’d be. “Needs honey.” 

“Ah yes, I thought it looked a bit runny. I’ll fetch-”

Thorin had half begun to rise, but Bilbo put an elbow on the edge of his tunic to hold him in place, “I’d rather have the company just at present. If you don’t mind.” 

Thorin leaned against the headboard, and Bilbo reclined against him, “At your service.” 

Bilbo smiled, stroked the plait in Thorin’s beard he himself had put there just the day before, “Sentimental old Dwarf. How are you getting along without me?”

“I am not without you,” Thorin said seriously, giving Bilbo a rather solemn kiss on the top of his head. 

“How is the  _house_  getting along without me, then? Bread in the breadbox and so forth?”

Thorin nodded and stroked Bilbo’s back, deciding on the spot that his nightshirt was a little thin and he must have another one, “Bread in the breadbox, butter in the butter dish. Weeds pulled. Path swept. The house is getting along fine. I’ve even polished Sting.” 

Bilbo nodded, “Have you dusted the mantel?”

“The mantel is dusted, husband.” 

“Ah,” Bilbo sighed. “You scarcely need me at all.” 

Thorin laughed, “But I  _miss_ you.”

“You have just said you are not without me,” Bilbo slyly slid the mug onto his bedside table and leaned even more comfortably against Thorin. 

Thorin curled an arm about Bilbo’s waist, “But I miss your singing and talking to yourself. And I miss your pen scratching and scratching in that book. And I miss you reading bits of it aloud to me to check your memory.”

“To check yours!” Bilbo protested in mock outrage. 

Thorin lifted the mug from the table and nudged Bilbo with it, “Take your medicine, please. I am very greedy as I have just described and would have more of you than is currently on offer.” 

“A little honey first,” disregarding the mug, Bilbo laid his head on Thorin’s chest and shut his eyes. 

“All right,” Thorin agreed. “A little honey first.” 


End file.
